I've Just Seen A Face
by nerdsman92
Summary: Series of Songfics featuring the Beatles. Covers various heartfelt parts of the Games. PeetaxKatniss
1. I've just Seen a Face

**This songfic centers around Peeta, when he first met Katniss and during the 74****th**** Hunger Games. I kind of just banged this out, so I hope you like it! Please R&R, constructive criticism is the best gift a person could give. **

"**I've Just Seen a Face" belongs to the Beatles, and the Hunger Games belongs to that awesome Suzanne Collins. **

**I've just seen a face,**

**I can't forget the time or place**

**That we'd just met, she's just the girl for me**

**And I want all the world to see we've met**

**Na na na na na na**

There she is—the Everdeen girl. Daddy says her mom is the most beautiful girl in the world. He says Everdeen girls are special. Daddy says that he didn't marry that his Everdeen girl because she ran off with a miner.

"Why wouldn't she want to marry you?" I asked him.

"Because when he sang, even the mockingjays stopped to listen."

Well, that pretty Everdeen girl is singing now. I'm sure every living thing in District 12 can hear her beautiful voice. It rings out quiet and soft and stunning. I know that every mockingjay is listening to her sweet voice. I know I am just like Daddy; that pretty Everdeen girl in the red dress and braids will be mine forever.

**Had it been another day**

**I might have looked the other way**

**But I had never been aware**

**And as it is I dream of her tonight**

**Na na na na na na**

"Prim Everdeen!" Effie Trinket chirps, clutching the name she has just drawn from the reaping ball.

_Oh no, _ I think _no, no, no._ That's the town sweetheart, the little twelve-year old I often catch staring at my cakes from outside the bakery. How could it be _Prim_?At least it's not Katniss. At least it's not _my_ Everdeen girl.

"I-I volunteer!" A strangled, desperate voice cries from the sixteens. I know instantly it's Katniss. No one else could sound so melodic and so desperate at the same time. My heart is breaking as she climbs onto the stage. I know I should be grateful a twelve-year old has been spared a terrible fate, but I'm just falling down, down down…

"Peeta Mellark!" Effie Trinket cries. As I take my place on stage, I'm surprised to discover my biggest feeling is not fear, but relief. Relief that I can accompany my Everdeen girl into the black world of the Capital. Maybe she'll realize I exist before we go into the arena. Maybe I can bring her back to District 12, to be with Prim, to lighten the town with her adventurous spirit and melodic voice.

I realize I am just as foolishly, hopelessly in love with this stoic, determined, compassionate, beautiful girl as I was with the girl with the braids and the red dress years ago.

That night, my dreams are filled with her face.

**Falling, yes I am falling**

**And she keeps calling me back again**

"I can't do this," I murmur to Haymitch, while barreling on a train to the Capital. Katniss is off somewhere; even though I'm her district partner, she still refuses to see I'm here, to see how much I can help her. Now the grim reality of being a tribute in the Games is finally setting in, and the task seems insurmountable.

"You're going to play the Games, no matter how much you pout," Haymitch says. He was never one for pep-talks. The alcohol is so strong on his breath that I feel I am becoming drunk of the fumes.

"I can't kill anyone, especially children!" Suddenly the compartment seems too small, the alcohol on Haymitch's breath too strong. The room starts spinning and the secret I am holding deep within bursts out. "I can't kill Katniss. I love her."

There is only silent for a few moments. Then Haymitch laughs, a drunk, bitter laugh. "Love doesn't exist in the Games."

I think about Katniss dying in a thousand ways: shot, burned, stabbed. It doesn't matter. There still will be no life, no endless determination in her eyes, only dead, blank orbs. She would never again take care of her mother and Prim in a gentleness nobody else would even guess at. She would only be a cold, dead corpse in a wooden box. She would be silenced forever.

I can't let that happen to my Everdeen girl. I can't let that smile she does when she's with Prim fade away, or her fiery light burn out. Love is going to exist in these Games. I'm going to make sure of that. Katniss will be protected until my dying breaths.

"I'm going to save her," I tell Haymitch. "No matter what."

**I have never known**

**The likes of this, I've been alone**

**And I have missed things and kept out of sight**

**But other girls were never quite like this**

**Na na na na na na**

"You had no right, no right to go saying those things about me!" Katniss is shrieking at me. The sharp pains in my bloodied hands are proof that the admission of my feelings for her during the Capital interviews didn't go over as well as I'd hoped.

Then Haymitch, Cinna, Portia, and Effie are there, lifting me off the ground. Portia grows faint as she sees the glass sticking out of my hand. I briefly wonder if she's dreading cleaning another mess up so soon before the games.

"What going on?" Effie cries, "Did you fall?"

Fall? Only for Katniss, and sometimes I wonder if that was a mistake. "After she shoved me."

"Shoved him?" thunders Haymitch. They go into a whole new argument. I am left thinking that same old sentiment over again: _She has no idea the effect she can have. _She has no idea what a hold she has over me, and I've just conveyed it on national television. I've stayed out of sight to long at home; she thinks I'm only taking advantage of a district partner.

And then I'm thinking a new thought, a thought I despise. She's just worried about _Gale._ She's just worried that her fancy boyfriend will get jealous and leave her when she gets back to District 12. I'm destined to be just like my dad: heartbroken over an Everdeen girl who runs off with someone from the Seam.

As I painfully pull out the shards of glass from my palm, I remember why I love her, why I must return her to District 12, even just to run into the arms of Gale. She's my Everdeen girl, and that's the only reason I need.

**Falling, yes I am falling**

**And she keeps calling me back again**

It's the night before the games, and I am sure I'm about to throw up from nerves. I make my way to the rooftop, that secret place Cinna was kind enough to show me. As I watch the ant-like people walking around on the sidewalk, a swirl of thoughts take over my mind. What will the arena be like? Who will I have to kill? Will I even survive the bloodbath? But many of my thoughts are for Katniss. How long will she survive? How long will I be able to protect her before she is on her own?

Not that she needs protection. She is plenty capable of providing that herself. Still, I plan to go with the careers just to keep them off of her trail. That way, they won't be hunting her down the second the blood-bath ends. With Katniss's eleven, the careers will surely want her blood.

That's why I am so happy when she emerges from the doors onto the roof. She looks just as nervous as me, but she returns my smile. Her smile makes my heart skip a beat. It reminds me of when we first met, when she sang that song in school, and I knew I was a goner. Yes, she smiled a lot more often then. Every time she smiles now, she brings back the time the mockingjays fell silent for her voice.

I'm glad she's on the roof with me. No matter what happens tomorrow, I've got my Everdeen girl at my side tonight.

**I've just seen a face**

**I can't forget the time or place**

**And we'd just met, she's just the girl for me**

**And I want all the world to see we've met**

**Na na na na na na**

We should have won by now. Cato, thank goodness, is finally dead. Is last hours were the worst I could have imagined for anyone, and his moaning and pleading will forever be ingrained into my head. This place is so dark, I would have given up if I hadn't had Katniss with me. But now, Cato is dead. The blood is pouring out of my leg at an alarming rate. I know I won't live for more than an hour, and that's being very generous. Why isn't anything happening?

"Greetings to the final contestants of the 74th Hunger Games!" Claudius Templesmith shouts, "The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule-book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

"If you think about it, it's not that surprising," I mutter. I've seen the Capital do many cruel things this game. I've witnessed heartless, cold deaths. I've even killed. I wouldn't put it past the citizens to be thirsty for more blood. But I won't do it. I won't be just a part of their games. After all, wasn't my mission to save Katniss? I've completed that. It's only me and her, and my life is quickly running out. If I die now, I die a winner. Katniss can go home to her mother, Prim, Gale. She can keep living, keep singing to those mockingjays.

I throw my knife in the lake, enraged that Cladius has even suggested that I murder my Everdeen girl. When I turn around, I find her arrow pointed straight at my heart. I am hurt. Does she still not trust me, after everything we've been through? Does she really think I am capable of harming her?

She must see the hurt in my eyes because her bow lowers and she lets out a sob. And suddenly I am happy, because I know if killing me when I am already dying, even if it means getting back to Prim, is so hard for her, some part of her must love me back.

"No, do it!" I say, putting the weapons back in her hands. I need her to do this. Killing me is her salvation, and I won't last long anyway. Spots are dancing before my eyes. Why won't she just get this over with?

And then she pulls out the berries. Because I've gotten to know her so well over these games, I know they're just a trick. She's clever enough to outsmart the Capital. As Claudius yells at us to stop, my heart is exploding with joy. This moment will never be forgotten. My Everdeen can live. My Everdeen girl loves me.


	2. Blackbird

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to post anything! This month is Nanowrimo, and I've had no time to write something except for my novel. If you're a Nano-er too, look me up! My username is also nerdman92. Teehee. I plan to keep writing these little songfics as an escape when I have time, and District 4 will most likely start again in December. **

**So, I decided to turn my first songfic into a collection of songfics from the Beatles, because everybody likes them! It will feature many characters from Hunger Games, and most likely stick with the 1****st**** book, but you never know. Rue's chapter got very long, but I just like her so much!  
**

**Hope you like it, Read and Review! Constructive Criticism is the best gift you can give! **

**BTW, Hunger Games, and most of the dialogue in this story is owned by Suzanne Collins. The Beatles own Blackbird. **

**Blackbird—Rue**

**Blackbird singing in the dead of night****  
****Take these broken wings and learn to fly****  
****All your life****  
****You were only waiting for this moment to arise**

The morning of the reaping is filled with fog, mystifying everything more than a few feet away. I'm glad for the fog, because maybe my family won't notice how badly I'm shaking. I am their Rue, their watchbird, the one who must stay strong for all the little ones. Here I am, reduced to shaking like an autumn leaf in the wind, capable only of being crushed and reduced to dust at a any moment.

I can't go. I can't be reaped. Who will take my place in this broken District?

But the green-haired lady on stage doesn't seem to know that. Because the first thing she does after describing how badly we were crushed in the rebellion is call my name.

And now I know I will have to be strong—not just for my parents, my siblings, or the workers in the field—for my entire District. Even though I am small and fragile, it is my turn to rise.

**Black bird singing in the dead of night****  
****Take these sunken eyes and learn to see****  
****all your life****  
****you were only waiting for this moment to be free**

The Capital people have me dressed in a fantastical dress that makes me look like something straight out of all the magical stories of District 11. It's pink like a rose, fading into robin egg blue. It has hundreds of tiny sparkles, so it shimmers in the light. And it has wings. Tonight I do not feel like a poor girl from a poor district; I feel like a princess.

These past few days I've spent in the Capital have been more magical than anything I've ever experienced. It's true that every night I am caught in a terrible nightmare about the games, so debilitating that I wake up the next morning and am barely able to speak—they bring me back to the Reaping, when I was just a broken leaf in the wind. But in the day I experience a world I have never even been able to imagine. Everything here is like music—free and adventurous, each experience attributing to a different tone that together make the score of my final days.

I feel terrible for admitting it, but I feel so free now. I've let go of the images of my brothers and sisters, to whom I am more a mother than a sister. I choose not to worry about where their next meal is going to come from, how they are going to fall asleep at night without my songs, and how I will no longer be able to quiet their crying. Is it too much to ask to just be me before I go into the arena? I am only twelve, and I make it my goal to live these Capital days acting like it.

That's why I'm smiling at my interviews, in a pretty dress, being filmed on TV like a celebrity. And when Cosmo asks me what my greatest strength in the arena will be, I find myself answering without hesitation. "I'm very hard to catch. And if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So don't count me out." I imagine it will be like a game of tag—a game I barely got to play. I'll win it this time.

I am utterly delighted when the girl from District 12 emerges from the stands. Her dress is jeweled, like fire. It's even more beautiful than mine. Something about her as drawn me to her all week. She looks like a protector, like a friend. When she talks about her little sister, I find myself becoming jealous. I wish I had a big sister just like her.

**  
****Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly****  
****Into the light of the dark black night.**

The night before the games, my huge sense of freedom abruptly died. Everything seemed too small, too containing. I just wanted to fly away. I needed to really be free—free from responsibility, free from expectation. Free from these wretched nightmares that come whenever I shut my eyes. I was tired of these games, tired of pretending I'm something that I'm not. I want nothing more than to be just a twelve year old, but even as far from home as I am now, all I can think about is that I should be singing my brothers and sisters to sleep right now.

I am a terrible person for renouncing my siblings for a few hours of feeling like a child. That's something that the girl from District 12, Katniss, would never do. She came here to protect her sister. I can only hope to be as strong as her.

In a way, maybe I am. I've learned to work hard and stay alive in a crippling district. I've had a chance to see the world around me. Now I'll just have to find the light in the Games.

Before I know it, the next morning has come and the Games are upon me. We are dropped into the arena, and my heart fills with joys. There are trees everywhere. These trees are taller and thicker than the ones at home, but that's too my advantage. I can fly my way to survival; the forest will be my wings.

******Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly****  
****Into the light of the dark black night.****  
**

So far I've managed to stay a ghost in these games—a bird flying in the dead of night. I can't make a move against the Careers yet; I'm far too small and weak, they'd kill me in a second, just like they killed the girl from District 10. I'm still shaken to the core from her death. I hid in the trees above her fire, stealing the warmth as the heat rose towards the sky. The Careers came before she was even warm—huge and black and grim in the light of the fire. I couldn't move away but couldn't watch as they played their cruel games. Then the boy from District 12, of all people, ended her. I had always thought that he looked like a good person.

For several hours after the cannon shot and the hovercraft came, I sat in the tree and stared at the spot where she had rested. I couldn't think about anything except for the black that closed in around me. The dark was suffocating.

I needed to find a friend in these Games. Someone who could keep me from being sucked into the darkness all around me, who could help me get the girl from District 10 out of my mind. I immediately think of Katniss. She is the light in these games. She went in here to save her sister. Maybe she can save me too.

Finding Katniss is harder than finding the Careers. Anyone could hear the Careers tramping around from a mile off, but Katniss is lithe and treads the forest floor so lightly even the trees wouldn't know she's there. The forest hid her so completely she could have been a part of it, like a nymph in one of District 11's tales.

I search the arena all day. I don't know what I'll do if I find her. She's so fierce that she may kill me on the spot. But I at least want to find her, to make sure she's not dead. If I can't win, I want her too. She's got a sister at home just like I do. After a day of searching, I give up. My mind is becoming dull with sleep, and I'm not sure how much longer my tiny limbs can swing from the trees. To continue on would be dangerous.

The next night the fire comes. Its flames catch me off guard as I sleep. It burns at my arms as I flee, run and fly through the trees just like a bird. The mockingjays are flying high above me, echoing the screeches of the forest animals and the screams of the tributes. The fire is only an inch away from me, and I'm moving as fast as I can.

Without warning, the branch underneath me crackles, and I swing down towards the flames. I can hear myself scream, panicking, thinking this cannot be it. But my arm slams into the trunk of the tree and knocks me to the ground, away from the flames. My arm burns. It's burning. I can smell the smoke and wonder if it's me, but I can't stop and see because the fire is coming and everything is burning… All I can think about is the black smoke, and I yearn for the light of the moon to lead me out of this burning mess.

Somehow I make it out. I just having to think of all of my brothers and sisters at home, how they have to be fed and someone has to be there to look out for them. I want to be as strong as Katniss. And even though the skin on my arm feels like it's burning away from the bone, I push myself to keep going, keep running, and keep climbing.

Somehow I make it to the next day. When the sun finally rises I'm so tired that I can't move. So I sit, utterly hidden by the leaves of the tree. I wish there were more mockingjays around to sing too, even though I know my voice will draw the Careers. They seem to have ears all around the arena.

But it is not them that hear me. Instead I hear them tramping around, closing in on someone. I know, pray, that they can't see me. It has to be someone else. I gather the energy to look around, and what I see is startling. Katniss, my role model, is being trapped by the career pack. Her body looks as if it's fallen from a very, very tall tree. But instead of being scared or hurt, she's almost laughing at the careers. She climbs up the trees next to mine at an amazing rate. Soon, she's almost level with me. The Careers are shouting at her from below. The boy from District 2 attempts to climb after her, and then the girl. I can see straightaway they know nothing about climbing trees, because there is no way the tree will hold either of their weights. And just as predicted, they crash to the ground halfway up.

"Oh, let her stay up there. It's not like she's going anywhere. We'll deal with her in the morning," the boy from District 12 says, much too harshly for his sympathetic appearance. I feel bad that Katniss's love was wrecked by the Games. Maybe she needs a friend just as badly as I do.

That's when I spot the tracker-jacker nest sitting right above Katniss's head. They'll kill her if I don't warn her—even one nudge of the nest will send the tracker-jackers out in full force. I know from experience, District 11 is full of them. I frantically point at them, praying that she sees me. And eventually she does. Her eyes widen in surprise, and then narrow with delight. I know she has a plan.

When she drops the tracker-jacker nest, I am already far, far away. Even one sting from the tracker-jackers would render me slow and clumsy, effectively killing my strategy in the games. If any tribute came over me in that state, I'd be crushed like a bug. I can only hope that Katniss doesn't meet that fate.

The next few days are quiet—too quiet. The Careers are out of commission, half-dead at the lake by the cornucopia. Katniss actually managed to kill a few of them. And the boy from District 12 is gone. I haven't noticed his face in the sky, but he's definitely not with the remaining Careers.

I get bored of watching them, and go out to find Katniss. It doesn't take me long to find her. She's by another small spring, combing out her hair. Then she's building a fire. And cooking _meat_. I'm so hungry my eyes water. I slip just a tiny bit out of the tree. That's when she hears me. She turns around, fast as lightning, her bow aimed towards me. I'm afraid if she sees me she'll shoot. Maybe I've misjudged Katniss. I've always known she was dangerous.

But then she lowers her bow and chuckles softly. "You know, they're not the only ones who can form alliances."

It takes me a moment to realizes she's talking to me, even though I know I'm the only other person here. It's almost unfathomable that she would want _me_ for an ally. "You want me for an ally?"

"Why not? You saved me from those tracker-jackers. Besides, you're smart enough to still be alive. And I can't seem to shake you anyway," Katniss says.

I can't believe it. I have a friend in the arena. I know Katniss will look out for me. I can pretend that _I _have an older sister for once. Suddenly, it seems there is finally a light in these bleak Games.

******Blackbird singing in the dead of night****  
****Take these broken wings and learn to fly****  
****All your life****  
****You were only waiting for this moment to arise,****  
****You were only waiting for this moment to arise,****  
****You were only waiting for this moment to arise**

The past few days with Katniss have felt almost like home. It's almost been better. For the first time, I can depend on someone. I have someone looking out for me. She gave me her food, let me climb into her sleeping bag. It's a little bit of love and care I never felt in District 11.

So when she tells me the plan to destroy the Career's food, I trust her whole-heartedly. If it was anyone else, I'd wonder if they'd use me to destroy the food and then dispose of me, but not Katniss. She wouldn't do that. She cares about me.

I have to set a series of signal fires to lead the Careers away from the Cornucopia. That is easy. I fly through the trees so fast I'm barely touching the branches. I can't wipe the grin off my face.

I can only hope the diversion is easy. I've already lit the first two fires, and I'm gone so fast that I can't tell if the Careers are coming or not. But we know they can't resist fresh bait.

But when I get to the third fire, I know something is wrong. There's rustling in the leaves, the sounds of twigs breaking. It's too loud to be even a deer. It has to be a career. Judging by the sound it's only one, but still, I freeze. Without Katniss, the chances of me surviving in a tussle with a Career are next to none.

So I sit and wait. Before long, he ambles into view. It's the boy from District 1. He's carrying a backpack, but more frighteningly, a sharp spear glints in his hand. I don't know what he's looking for; maybe he suspects a trap, but what would draw him here? I haven't even lit the third campfire yet. I just want him to leave, so I can light the fire. It's my only responsibility in this mission, and I want to do it well.

But District 1 doesn't leave. He's looking at the area like he's a hunting dog sniffing it out. He must know I'm here. But he doesn't look at me, he's only looking at the ground.

When he sees the campfire all set up, just asking to be burned, he knows someone will be here. So he sits on a rock, waiting for someone to arrive. I don't know what to do. If I move from the tree, he'll hear me. I'm sure he's a good aim with that spear. Katniss is probably worrying about me. I know I'd be terrified if one of my siblings didn't come home in time. I just want her to know that I'm okay.

There's a mockingjay nest in the branches right above me. I know I'm risking everything, but I decide my song to the bird. It's a little bit louder than I intend, but a quick glance at the boy from District 1 reveals he shrugged it off as just a bird.

Just as I'm moving to shoo the bird away, the branch I'm standing on gives way. The bird bursts out of the tree, blaring my safety signal to anyone who would hear it. I tumble out of the branches, a terrified scream leaving my lips. The boy is right there. There's no way I can escape him.

As soon as my body meets the ground, the boy jumps up and throws a net over me. I struggle to throw it off of me, but in my hysterics I only make it worse. There is no way I can escape this.

"Katniss! Katniss!" I shout, plead. I can't die now. My brothers and sisters need me.

"Rue!" I hear her shout back. She's close.

"Katniss!" She bursts into the clearing. She's too late. The boy has thrown his spear and I find it buried deep into my stomach.

It hurts so bad I can barely think.

Without thinking, she shoots the boy in the throat. Blood slides down his neck and he drops into the ground. I can't look any more. So much blood. Everything hurts.

"Are there more?" She shouts desperately. "Are there more?"

"No," I say. "No, no, no." I can barely talk. I roll over to my side, surrounding the spear. I can feel tears trickle down my cheeks.

I can feel her cutting me out of the net, putting me in her lap. Her hands cradle my head. I'm glad to feel her hands stroking my hair, like an older sister would do. Her face shows utter torment. I can tell she's hurting so bad. All I want to do is comfort her, distract her from this ugly truth.

"Did you blow up the food?" I manage to gasp.

"Every last bit," she assures me.

"You have to win." I always wanted her to win if it wasn't me. She has a sister to protect.

"I'm going to. Going to win for both of us now." A cannon goes off. Soon there will be one for me. I can feel my spirit slipping away, my thoughts getting fuzzier, the pain spreading through my body. I realize I'm scared.

"Don't go." I can only whisper now.

"Course not. Staying right here." She's close to tears now. I want to hear the sound of music one last time. I want her to sing for me like I'd sing for my siblings.

I can barely make my mouth move. "Sing." The word just escapes my lips. The world is truly becoming dark.

But somehow she hears me, and her voice mixes in with the fuzziness and the pain and the darkness. The music is with me until I can feel my heart stop. And I'm gone.

I can fly, as if I'm no longer broken.

And I'm finally free.


	3. Dear Prudence

**A/N: Beatle Song #3: Dear Prudence. This songfic was written while procrastinating a paper, so it's very short. Hope everyone likes it!**

**Thanks to Call Me Bitter, Hopelessy Unromantic, and Prideisarrogance for reviewing, you all made me smile! Like, lots! :D**

**Dear Prudence is owned by the Beatles, and Hunger Games is owned by that awesome lady, Suzanne Collins. **

**Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play****  
****Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day****  
****The sun is up, the sky is blue****  
****It's beautiful and so are you****  
****Dear Prudence won't you come out to play****  
**

Glimmer had been waiting for this day all year: Reaping Day. She was continuously battling on the inside between fear and excitement, right up to the very moment she volunteered to be a Tribute. She disguised her inner battle and instead smiled and waved as she climbed the stage. People were applauding for her, and she loved every minute of it. She tried not to show the inklings of terror that had begun to spider around her shaky fingers as the full weight of the Games dawned on her. They were beautiful fingers, too beautiful to be marred by something as ugly as fear. Besides, now she was a star. And when she came back, all the fame, honor, and glory would be hers.

Glimmer knew she could murder, and she knew she wouldn't blink an eye as she did. She was a beautiful ice-queen. But Glimmer could never know her death would make her as ugly on the outside as she was inside.

******Dear Prudence open up your eyes****  
****Dear Prudence see the sunny skies****  
****The wind is low the birds will sing****  
****That you are part of everything****  
****Dear Prudence won't you open up your eyes?**

Rue didn't realize what she was getting into when she was reaped. Sure, she knew she would be a contestant on the Games. She knew she would be hunted, turned into a monster, stripped of everything she ever was.

She almost felt like she should sing her mockingjay song, as she stared out into the crowd from the stage. _Work is done, you can all go home_. Work was done for her, anyway. One less worker to help feed her family. She knew she needed to win. If she won, her brothers and sisters would never go hungry. That was Rue's knew work.

But what that tiny twelve year old from disparaged District 11 would never know how important she really was. She was the spark to the revolution. Sure, later others would argue that it was Katniss Everdeen, after all, she was the _mockingjay_. But what started it all for her was a helpless dead girl wreathed in flowers.

******Look around round round****  
****Look around round round****  
****Oh look around**

When Foxface's name was called, she did not weep, cry out, or quiver. She was resolute as she climbed the stairs to the stage. She knew that every camera was trained on her every move, and if she wanted to get sponsors, she could not show an ounce of emotion if it was not maliciousness.

Foxface also knew she didn't have a malicious bone in her body. But she didn't count herself out. You see, Foxface was smart. She could calculate chances and make game-plans in half a second. She could sneak anywhere undetected, a skill learned from evading Peace-Keepers and snatching food to feed her family.

Yes, Foxface was good at looking around, gathering the most minute details. She was even smarter than her nickname. But what she didn't know was that her confidence in reading people's actions would be what killed her. ****

**Dear Prudence let me see you smile****  
****Dear Prudence like a little child****  
****The clouds will be a daisy chain****  
****So let me see you smile again****  
****Dear Prudence won't you let me see you smile?**

Prim Everdeen was anything but smiling when Effie Trinket shouted her name. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Katniss had never even let her take out Tesserae. This was her first reaping. She was only _twelve._ But Prim knew that Katniss would be strong in this situation, and so would she. She took a deep breath, clenched her fists together, and took the first trembling step towards the stage. She could be strong just like Katniss.

But then the worst happened. Katniss volunteered. Katniss threw herself up on the stage, and ripped Prim away from her. Katniss snatched the only chance Prim had of showing her Prim could be strong.

The worst part was Prim was secretly glad.

Mostly, Prim was terrified, terrified that her strong, resolute sister would never come back. What would Prim do without her? Prim looked up to Katniss for everything. She didn't think their tattered little family could survive without Katniss.

Katniss had been so upset when Prim cried that day. What did she expect? Did she want Prim to smile, when Katniss was being sent to her death? No, not death. Katniss would win. Katniss had to win, because she was a good person; she had saved Prim time and time again.

Prim couldn't know that she couldn't really get away from the Games. The Games were everywhere. Even then, powerful forces were weaving the net that would catch all of them. Prim would die anyway, in a perverted war game.

******Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play****  
****Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day****  
****The sun is up, the sky is blue****  
****It's beautiful and so are you****  
****Dear Prudence won't you come out to play****  
**

Clove was happy her name was called. She wanted to show the world what she could do. She could become someone beautiful and powerful, like Enoboria. Clove was never considered beautiful like Enoboria. She scared people; her countenance was sly and violent, her temper furious, and if anyone got on her bad side, they knew they should run.

Clove was born to play the games. And people would see she was beautiful through her murders. They'd see she was an artist. They'd see she was cunning. They'd see she was a better tribute than Enoboria _ever_ was.

Clove didn't know the Games would crush her, and if she did she wouldn't care. She just wanted to prove herself before she went.

When they lowered Clove into the arena, her sole thought was: _come play, tributes, come out and play._


	4. Here Comes the Sun

**A/N: Sorry everyone, it took me forever to update! I had been in a comma from Nanowrimo (Succesfully finished, by the way) and regained consciousness just in time to take some finals. Seems like I've finally revived just in time for Christmas. Anyway, thanks for reading! R&R, Concrits are always cherished. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed thus far!**

**I used "Here Comes the Sun" for Hellopoppet123, thanks for reviewing, and sorry it took me five million years to update!**

**Merry Christmas everyone!**

**Hunger Games is owned by Suzanne Collins, and Here Comes the Sun is owned by the Beatles. Yay creative genious!**

**P.S. Next songfic I'll try to make shorter x.x **

**Here comes the sun, doo da doo doo****  
****Here comes the sun, and I say****  
****It's alright****  
**

The last time I really saw Katniss, before she was just a pixilated image on a TV screen, was at the justice building. The shock of her reaping hadn't yet worn off, but cracks in the icy disbelief were giving way into boiling anger.

The Capital is the one who took her away from me. The Capital, who preys on the weak and lets the rich live a life so spoiled they forget what life is really like. The Capital turns their head away as children starve to death in the streets every week and watch with zeal as kids murder each other for their entertainment. But I know Katniss: she won't play by their rules. She'll give those Game Makers a piece of her mind.

When I walked into the train station, Katniss didn't look like her ferocious self. She only looked like a girl, and a frightened one at that. Sure, her mouth was set in a straight hard line, but I've been her hunting partner long enough to know when she's faking it. Right then, she was phonier than President Snow.

I felt something hot prickling at my eyes—anguish. Anguish for her being reaped, and anguish that I didn't volunteer to protect her. But I knew that one of us had to be here, for our families' sakes. I pushed back the tears and replaced them with the old familiar anger. Nothing was left to do except reach out to Katniss.

I had never hugged her, at least not the way I was hugging her then. I could smell her hair, the familiar blend of pine of the forest and the coal dust that clung to everything. I didn't want to trade that smell—_her _smell—for anything. In less than three minutes, she'd be gone. I can't say I knew she'd come back. I'm not an optimist, and while she can fight, no one should underestimate the power of the capital lapdogs: the careers. So I did the best I could to reassure her, remind her of her assets. If she could get a hold of a bow, her chances would skyrocket. She was scared of hurting the other kids. Fear of playing the games sounded almost trivial to me because if you don't act, they will. I tried to comfort her anyway, because I couldn't take the fear hidden away to everyone but me. It took me back to the day where I first saw her, standing on the stage getting medals of valor for our dead fathers…

The peacekeepers came up behind me, demanding that I leave. Apparently, I was out of time. I didn't want to go. I couldn't trust her to the Capital. She started to panic as I demanded more time. The peacekeepers deny my request, and when I refuse to go they grip my arms tightly and start to pull me away. I jerk out of their grasp, but they only latch on harder, like leeches.

She grabbed my hand and almost shouted, "Don't let them starve!" She was getting carted off to a death match and all she could think about was her family. Of course I wouldn't let them starve.

"I won't! You know I won't! Katniss, remember I—" but then the Peacekeepers got the best of me and shoved me away and out the door. Katniss was going into the arena and I never told her I loved her. I hated myself for it.

******Little darling****  
****It's been a long, cold, lonely winter****  
****Little darling****  
****It feels like years since it's been here**

The next few days are lonelier than I've ever felt. I've forgotten what it was like hunting without a partner. The woods are quiet, so quiet they could swallow you up whole and no one would ever know. The solemnity is not what tears me apart. What kills me is her absence. She should be right next to me, teasing me about a bad shot or worrying about Prim. My mind plays that moment in the Justice Building over and over—the part where I was to cowardly to tell her how I felt, the look in her eyes as she begged me to keep her family from starving. She's always worrying about others. She's on the same par as Prim, if not better, and she doesn't even realize it.

I see her on TV not long afterwards. All the perfect flaws in her face are covered by the vain Capital goop they use to make everyone look "perfect." The worth of an inch of fabric in her black jumpsuit could feed both our families for a week. And the stupid fools of the Capital _light her on fire_. Even those bloodthirsty bats should realize the risk they're taking by lighting one of their valuable tributes on _fire. _I'm sweating bullets just thinking about the flames burning through the cape and licking at her skin…

I almost choke when I realize she's holding hands with the market boy, Petey or Peter or whatever the hell his name is. I don't know much about him except for the fact that we sell squirrels to his father, and he's well liked at school. The scene where I almost tell Katniss how I feel replays in my head yet again. I wish I had told her. What will happen when this well-likable market boy is there for her when I'm not?

_Get a grip of yourself, Gale!_ I think. I'm being ridiculous and I know it. Still, I can't hide the resentment that's slowly growing. This is going to be a long Hunger Games.

******Here comes the sun****  
****Here comes the sun, and I say****  
****It's alright****  
**

I feel like I am going to throw up. We are at the Everdeen's house watching the action on their small TV. Prim is curled into her mother's arms and Mom is holding a squiggly Posy while trying to shield her eyes from the action on screen. Vick and Rory are quiet. I can't hear a single breath.

Katniss had been caught up a tree when the Careers cornered her. Peeta was with them. He latched onto the stronger ones the second they got into the arena, leaving Katniss on her own. I knew he would betray her.

With the help of the little girl, Katniss spotted the tracker jacker nest. I knew what she was going to do the second the cameras zoomed in on it. Dropping the nest was the only thing Katniss _could_ do, and she's not afraid to take risks of that magnitude.

As the nest plummets to the ground, Prim gives a yelp and Mrs. Everdeen gasps. My crossed arms are clenched so tightly my nails are digging into flesh.

_Crash. _The tracker jacker nest hits the ground and bursts. A fury of golden wasps hunt for victims. Katniss has already accrued several stings; I almost cry out as she nearly topples from the tree. But she regains herself and watches the mayhem below.

Several tributes panic. "To the lake! To the lake!" I can barely hear them over their screams but soon their gone and Katniss half falls and scrambles away, to the other direction.

"Wait! Katniss!" I scream at the TV. I ignore the concerned stares of everyone in the room. She's missed something crucial, something that lies in the hands of the dying District 1 girl—the bow. "You need the bow! The bow!"

If she has the bow she could win. But of course, she can't hear me. She's only an image projected across a piece of glass. Mom puts her hand on my shoulder reassuringly. I look away. I don't want her words of comfort right now.

Katniss stumbles through the foliage to a tiny pool. Never mind the bow, as each second passes I'm just worried she won't survive the poison from the tracker jackers. But Katniss is determined, and always has been.

Prim is crying into her mother's dress as the camera cuts to the careers making it to the lake. I don't care about them. I wish they'd all drown.

The camera cuts back to Katniss, who is now wandering through the woods in a fevered gait. It only takes me a split second to realize she's remembered the bow. When she sees District 1 on the ground, she gasps. Her face looks green. But she goes for the bow, shaking as she tries to wretch it from District 1's hands. It pains me that I can't be there for her right now.

She hears something coming through the bushes. It's the careers. They've left the lake. She pulls a bow into the string, but I can tell she's dizzy. I can tell the poison has gotten to her mind by the way she's holding the bow, like it's oozing something…

Peeta crashes through the bushes, spear raised. If he kills her and lives, I will hunt him down and murder him myself. But he doesn't move. Katniss just sits on the ground, helpless. I urge her to shoot, to move, _anything_, but I'm not as telepathic as I wish I were.

"RUN!" Peeta says the words to her that I cannot. Just as Cato crashes through the foliage, she disappears into the forest. I let long breath out. I don't care what happens to Peeta. All I know is that Katniss is alive. She's alive, and she has the bow. Everything is going to be alright.

******Little darling****  
****The smiles returning to the faces****  
****Little darling****  
****It seems like years since it's been here**

******Here comes the sun****  
****Here comes the sun, and I say****  
****It's alright****  
**

I am in such a good mood after seeing Katniss hold her own in the arena that I decide to hold up my end of the bargain, and go on a much needed hunting trip. I need to get a double haul, but I don't think it will be hard. Nothing seems difficult when I think of Katniss in the arena. She's not just hunting mindless deer and rabbits that will wander into a trap, she's hunting thinking people. They've proven to be cunning, and they will fight back. Especially the tributes from District 2, who are too eager to humiliate the tributes from the _real_ districts.

It's not too long before I've gotten three turkeys and four rabbits. I've also collected strawberries. The last time I gathered strawberries was on Reaping Day. It' seems so long ago.

I go to sell the game I've caught—the turkeys go to Cray, the strawberries to Madge's. The rabbit's I'll take home to split between my family and the Everdeens. I'm vaguely aware that I'm wearing some sappy smile as I trod through town. I tell myself to wipe it off. Katniss isn't through the games yet. There are still tributes to be killed. I'm just so excited that she's alive that I can't help smiling. Anyway, smiling is better than hysterics and I've got so much anger built up in me already that adding more wouldn't do any good.

And I really can't help knowing that Katniss will come home.

I am so uncharacteristically chipper that I am not even annoyed when Madge comes to the door. It's not really Madge that annoys me, but the fact that she gets to sit in the nice house with a full belly while my brothers and sister starve. She represents the flawed system, the fact that she can get away with five slips in the Reaping ball while I have forty-two. But I guess Prim was chosen with just one.

"Hello," Madge says skeptically when she cracks open the door. She gives me the once over and then opens the door wide with a smile on her face. "More strawberries?"

I ignore the strawberries and pull into a tight hug. I don't know why I did it. Maybe I had been hurting for so long, and now I just wanted to share my enthusiasm. Someone who wasn't Prim or Mrs. Everdeen. Because Katniss and Madge were friends. Whatever the reason, I didn't pull away, and neither did she. We stood in a silent embrace for minutes, not saying anything at all. When I pulled away, Madge wore a big grin. So did I.

"Katniss is going to win," I say. "I'm sure of it. She's coming home."

She pauses for a minute. "Yes. Yes, she will. Did you see the pin I gave her? It's good luck."

So it was Madge that gave her the Mockingjay pin. I want to hug her again. But I just give her another smile. I give her the strawberries, and then she gives me the coins. I can't help thinking that Madge and I are no longer just acquaintances.

******Sun, sun, sun, here it comes****  
****Sun, sun, sun, here it comes****  
****Sun, sun, sun, here it comes****  
****Sun, sun, sun, here it comes****  
****Sun, sun, sun, here it comes****  
**

This is what I get for being optimistic. Katniss is facing certain death. She's trapped on top of the cornucopia surrounded by dozens of grotesque muttations that are crying for her blood. Peeta is there, but he's injured and turning pale from the loss of blood. Not that he could help much either since he is wrapped in a chokehold by Cato. Cato, who just murdered Thresh so brutally that no one will recognize his body when he gets back to District 11 in a wooden box. I'm sure I haven't taken a breath in the last five minutes. I'm so terrified my brain seems to think it doesn't need oxygen.

"Come on Katniss…" I mutter. She can think her way out of this one. I know she can. She just has to try hard enough. Katniss and Cato are standing in a stalemate. Peeta is turning blue. But I can see that if Katniss shoots Cato, he'll take Peeta over the edge and into the sea of muttations. If she doesn't, Cato could just use Peeta's body as a shield and easily find a way to kill Katniss with it. Honestly, their relationship unnerves me so I probably wouldn't mind if he happened to fall over the edge. And that just might be Katniss's only way out. I retract the thought. I try to hate Peeta. I really do. But he's there to take care off Katniss when I'm not. Does that mean I owe him?

Then something happens. It's such a miniscule action that the camera barely catches it. Peeta drags his fingers across Cato's hand in an X. Katniss's eyes light up and she takes the shot. It's a shot her father would have been proud of. Katniss barely manages to snag Peeta as Cato falls into the crowd of mutts.

Prim lets go of my hand that I hadn't realized she was holding. My fingers are white from where she cut off the circulation. "She did it, she did it!" Prim cries. There is cheering, hugging, laughter. Mrs. Everdeen starts to cry.

But nothing happens. I realize it's because the cannon never went off for Cato. He's still not dead. There's no way he's making it back now.

We huddle together on the Everdeen's couch. Eventually we fall asleep there, because the next thing I know it's morning. Katniss and Peeta are still on the screen, this time sitting by the lake. It's the cannon that wakes me up. Cato is finally dead. I shake the others awake.

"it's over," I say, "It's over. They won." But nothing happens. Katniss and Peeta are just as confused as I am. Then Claudius Templesmith 's voice booms through our speakers. "The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule-book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

"No!" Prim shouts. She begins to cry. Posy is too young to know what's going on, but Prim's sobs makes her start screaming. In a split second Katniss has her arrows trained on Peeta. "Shoot," I whisper, "Shoot." But she doesn't. That's the difference between her and I: she hesitates where I wouldn't.

Instead, she pulls out some berries from her pocket. I recognize them instantly. Katniss has shown them to me before, while we foraged in the woods. Nightlock. One berry and they'd be dead in seconds. My brows furrow. Would really be willing to kill herself for _him? _ The market boy? No. This must be a trick. Peeta kisses her before they put the berries to her lips. My blood begins to boil.

They put the berries in their mouths. For a second, I'm unsure of her plan. I expect her to keel over on the ground any second, poisoned. Prim starts trembling again. She knows very well what nightlock is.

But they don't. Claudius comes back on the speaker and says urgently, "Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present tthe victors of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you—the tributes of District 12!"

Everyone starts shouting, jumping up and down, and praising the heavens. Even me. Especially me. Katniss is coming home. She did it.

******Little darling****  
****I see the ice is slowly melting****  
****Little darling****  
****It seems like years since it's been clear******

**Here comes the sun, here comes the sun and I say,****  
****It's alright**

I am right there on the platform when the train pulls up. The train that contains what I've realized is my sunshine. Yes, I had been jealous that she leapt into Peeta's arms every hour during the Games, and especially during the interview where she fawned over him and kissed him over and over. I had been angry and jealous. But I can't stay mad at Katniss for long. I can just as well channel all my emotions to the market boy.

My stomach flutters when I the doors begin to open. I don't know how to act around her anymore. Should I just pretend that her and Peeta never happened? We never did have a pronounced relationship before she left. Except that one time I tried to tell her I loved her at the Justice Building. But I'm sure she didn't even notice.

She steps out onto the platform hand in hand with Market Boy. But that's okay, because all I really need right now is to see her face. Her eyes meet mine in a second, and I realize that everything will be all right.


End file.
